


For Tonight Only

by Jakinickster



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Top!Thorin, homesick!bilbo, nervous!bilbo, thorin doesn't like seeing bilbo cold, what can i say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakinickster/pseuds/Jakinickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo misses the warmth of his bed back in Bag End, but when he agrees to go on An Unexpected Journey, where will he find his warmth then?</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Tonight Only

Thorin's Company had settled on a large ledge of the side of a mountain. The breeze had picked up by the time they set up their camp, proving it difficult for their home sick Hobbit to sleep any longer than but a few minutes. Nearly all were asleep, save Bombur who was on watch. However watch was not really the correct word to use—the dwarf was perched against the seat like area, head dipped over as he snored away in a deep slumber.

Despite sleep claiming him for a half an hour or so, maybe less, Bilbo found it rather challenging to keep himself warm. No warmth meant no sleep for Bilbo Baggins, from Bag End. Hobbits were accustomed to warm fires and lots of food, and with none of those things at his current disposal, he was a mess of a once respectable Hobbit. A mess indeed. His fingers and toes felt like icicles, and he was frozen to his very core. Or felt like it at least. 

“T-this is absurd.” Bilbo tucked his feet into the dingy material not nearly big enough to be called a blanket. It was thin but very coarse and did very little to keep out the cold. His teeth chattered and he finally gave up on the comforting thought he'd get any sleep tonight. Bilbo sat up, enclosing the thin sheet around his shoulders as he got up and quietly moved over to the wall of the ledge where the breeze was less. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him from waking the others up with his teeth chattering.  
Sleep never came, but after moving back and forth in hopes of finding more comfort than the rocky floor would realistically provide him, warmth suddenly soothed his trembling body from behind. Who in-

The body from behind hushed him before he had a chance to protest. His small body was soon engulfed by strong arms and another of those thin blankets. The arms that tightened around him proved to be more than enough warmth, and upon looking down and spotting those familiar gauntlets, Bilbo knew.

“For tonight only, Hobbit.” Thorin's deep voice whispered into his ears. Bilbo shuddered, feeling lips just barely an inch from the point of his ear. He sighed a deep sigh, and settled into the unusual embrace. Questions could wait until later, for his eyes finally shut and his body ceased from trembling. The dwarf's heavy breathing against his ear wasn't as irritating as one would think, it was almost relaxing, of all things. And it wasn't long until sleep took the Hobbit, and the morning came faster than he would have liked.

-

The day dragged on—which was more of a good thing than bad, really, so Bilbo couldn't complain. They hadn't moved camp, and there were no signs of orcs or trolls in the area. Thorin declared they would set off early in the morning, to which all other twelve of the dwarves grunted and agreed and went on with the day. 

Before he knew it, night was upon them and the cold breeze that had died down hours ago, was back but not nearly as terrible as the night before. Bilbo was curled up a bit further away from the others, near the stone wall just like last night. He assumed the dwarves slept wherever only because they were accustomed to this kind of weather. Bilbo, unfortunately, was not. So when the same warmth that pulled him into a deep slumber returned once more, he couldn't help but be surprised.

_“For tonight only, Hobbit.”_

“D-did you need something?” Bilbo seemed more awkward than last night in the embrace. It was warm, yes, but what did it mean? Thorin would never show such gentleness to his fellow dwarves, to his companions and the ones he trusted. Why, he was but a mere Hobbit—what would Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, want with him?

Then, it was more clear to him than a chilly morning in The Shire. Lips so dangerously close, almost touching the shell of his ear, until they were and his body shuddered from not the cold, but from the sensation searing through him like a fire. He was suddenly warmer than he'd ever been, even warmer than he would be sitting on his chair in front of his cozy fire. 

Thorin's lips enclosed around his ear, teeth nibbling the very point. Bilbo whined, and wished a moment like this to have been less spontaneous so he would've had the time to inform the dwarf about hobbit's ears being extra sensitive. He found a large hand with his own, small fingers lightly treading the dwarf's callous ones that lay innocently across his vest. 

Bilbo breathed, eyes shutting as the dwarf advanced. Thorin's lips moved from his ear to the back of his neck. The hobbit tensed for a moment. His heart raced suddenly under the advancements of the dwarf. “Hush, Master Baggins.” He felt Thorin's breath along his neck, and Bilbo hummed lowly. He had never encountered anyone that he wished to court in The Shire, so in turn he'd never had much experience in this sort of thing. But right now, every touch and lick down his neck brought a very intense heat to his groin. Of course as a young hobbit, there was curiosity, but nothing like this.

Suddenly he's turned around to face Thorin, and now the two faced each other. He was flushed, and his eyes traveled up to the dwarf's own, reveling in the darkness and depth that surrounded his remarkably light colored eyes. 

“Do you wish to stop?” 

Bilbo pondered the question for a moment, but shook his head. “I do not.” 

“Do not what?” The dwarf King pressed his palm to the hobbit's abdomen, loosening and unhooking the buttons of his vest. Bilbo nibbled his lip and closed his eyes. “I do not wish you to stop.” And to this, Thorin smirked, slipping a hand underneath the maroon jacket, and soon after, the vest. Bilbo gasped when fingers suddenly touched the skin under his shirt, leaving goosebumps after every touch.

He ingested everything that was happening, and his whole body felt tight throughout it all, and as Thorin's mouth returned to his neck, Bilbo felt the heat in his groin intensify. He was hard and tight against his trousers, something to which the dwarf took notice. “Aye, Mister Baggins.” Thorin's words muffled into Bilbo's neck, and Bilbo couldn't help but whimper at the deepness of his voice, how it felt like silk against his skin. 

Thorin's hand was quick to move down the hobbit's chest, and with every inch closer, Bilbo felt his toes curl in and his heart speed up. 

Thorin smirked, pulling away from his neck just to see the bliss spread across Bilbo's face as he cupped him through his trousers. Bilbo's lips parted, and the noise that escaped was most definitely not from that of a respectable hobbit. It was soft and needy, and Thorin's own fire was fueled by such a noise.

“You..” Thorin began, fingers unbuttoning the trousers and slipping a hand beneath the layers of clothing. “..are something truly special, hobbit.” He felt the hotness of Bilbo's cock in his hand now, and squeezed the hard muscle. 

“No, no. I'm quite respectable where I come from.” Bilbo spoke, surprisingly well, considering his heart was erratic and jumping in his chest. He was here with Thorin and he didn't understand what was going on in the slightest. But the experience that his King showed him, made him feel almost at ease. 

Thorin began stroking the hobbit's cock slowly, milking every little noise he could from him, not compromising for anything less. And Bilbo didn't disappoint—his hips arched into the touch, lips parted and soft mewls escaped his parched throat. 

The hobbit's cheeks were red and his eyes were glossy with his reaching climax—definitely a sight to see. It turned Thorin's stomach into a bundle of knots, seeing his—the hobbit, in such a compromising way. 

Bilbo was close already, he could feel it with the overwhelming tightness that stretched all the way down to his toes. He knew he wouldn't last long at all, and he blamed that on never having had such a relation like this before in all of his fifty years. He had been a lonely hobbit, in those aspects. Never really fond of anyone in The Shire. In the same respect, he would never have dreamt of making the move on Thorin—no, never did such a thought cross his mind. Never, he assured himself. Even if it had, theoretically, Bilbo would never, ever assume, even on one of his good days, that King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield, would crave for a mere hobbit. It was unheard of, un thought of, but here they were. They were perfectly intertwined, knit so closely together, and the hand that was now so fast on him caused him to feel lightheaded. 

Bilbo braced himself for what was to come, and with a shaky hand, he grasped the fabric of Thorin's shoulder. He held tightly, and with every quickening stroke, Bilbo's breathing became short and fast.

Thorin hushed him, again, and Bilbo tried, he did very well try to keep himself quiet as the hard wash of his climax pushed through him with every desperate tug. He was so hot, yet all the while still cold. He shivered, emptying his load between into Thorin's fist, who was quick to discard it onto the ground. 

“Is it... is it safe to assume most of our kind don't get a long in such a manner?” Bilbo steadied his breaths and calmed himself, he was far too excited for his own good. 

“Well, Bilbo.” Thorin started, eyes burning into the little hobbit. “You are no ordinary hobbit.” 

Bilbo couldn't attest to that, no matter how much he'd like to believe he was. An ordinary hobbit, that is. 

Thorin was still hard and unattended to, something Bilbo would've completely forgotten about if the dwarf hadn't pressed his hardness into his thigh. It seemed much larger than his, even beneath all the material of his pants and undergarments. So much bigger than his and that alone made him incredibly nervous. What was he to do with it? Bilbo let it all happen, when the dwarf draped his body over Bilbo's with his own—the smaller of the two was suddenly frightened. 

“Oh, no, no.” Bilbo's hands flew up, pushing Thorin back by his shoulders. “Are you insane? That won't, oh...no it won't, it couldn't possibly..”

Thorin was now straddled on top of Bilbo, knees on either side of him. “You wish to stop?” Yet again, he asked.

Bilbo wasn't sure this time. He was more scared than unwilling, but it still remained that wherever Thorin planned on putting ....it, well, it just wouldn't...

Thorin was a dwarf and he was a hobbit, and not a large hobbit at that. More of an average one, and Thorin...well, he was on the larger scale of dwarves.

“Well.. no, but how do you expect it to.. well, you know!” His tone was accusatory. However, Thorin was quick to place a gentle, but firm hand on his cheek. Cold to cold, but the dwarf was remarkably warmer than he was. The dwarf leaned in to capture his lips—just as cold as his cheeks, but warming with the gesture. “I'll prepare you.” The dwarf's words were soft as he pulled away and worked on the hobbit's trousers and under pants. Bilbo protested with a baffled look, to which Thorin continued to slip his pants down. 

“Not to worry.” Thorin's eyes fell from Bilbo's face to his prick that twitched in the cold breeze. “You will warm, soon, my dear hobbit.” 

Bilbo scoffed, not believing a word, and planned on telling the dwarf what was what, but his words caught in his throat when a hand stroked his thigh and a warm body hovered over his. Said hand lowered dangerously, moving to cup his buttock. 

“G-get on with it, will you.” Bilbo spat, and to this Thorin gladly obliged.

How he'd love to see the hobbit wet his fingers, to suck on them long and hard until they were slick enough to... But he was no fool, and knew he was already on thin ice with the halfling. He settled with his own, spitting and generously spreading the saliva on his fingers before placing them to the only hot part of Bilbo's body. It was tight, and puckered when he pressed a finger against it's warmth.

Bilbo tensed, hands balling into fists and eyes shutting. Thorin had barely started and he was already ready for him to stop. He wanted it, yes, but he wanted it to come easily. But that wasn't a possibility, now was it? So he laid there, head back against his makeshift pillow. 

Thorin saw Bilbo's hesitance, and he pushed in as slowly as he could, one finger at a time. Bilbo was stretched by just one of the dwarf's thick fingers, he couldn't imagine....  
The process was dreadfully slow for Thorin, but as long as the hobbit wasn't in pain. He pushed in further when he heard Bilbo's breathing steady from fast, exaggerated pants to a slower, calm tempo. It went from one to two, and two to three within just a few minutes of Bilbo's quiet complaints and exaggerations. 

“You are ready.” 

“Now, I -” Bilbo threw a finger up as he propped himself up onto his elbows. “I don't think I am, actually.” He was nervous, he didn't think he'd be able to.

“I would not make you do anything I didn't think you could do, Bilbo.” Thorin's voice was soft, quiet and he moved to yank his undergarments down, and unlike Bilbo, the cold didn't affect him all that much when it hit his hard cock.

It was big, Bilbo thought. Much bigger than his. 

Thorin grabbed himself in one hand, the other heavy against the ground beside Bilbo. He leaned on one side, situating the hobbit's legs. “Wrap them around my waist.” He instructed, and Bilbo did as he said, wrapping both legs around the dwarf's thick, muscular back. He was watching Thorin—or his hand, to be more specific and what it was held on to. His eyes widened and Bilbo looked back to Thorin's concentrated expression. The dwarf wet himself with his own precum and saliva, mixing the two in a slick lubricant along the girth of his cock. Bilbo stared until Thorin finally moved above him, his clothed chest covering Bilbo's. 

“Breathe.” The dwarf calmed Bilbo, and all was well until he felt an intrusion at his rear, attempting to push in. Bilbo was overwhelmed now, that Thorin had pushed in enough to rip past the tight ring of muscle, causing him to cry out. A hand brushed through his curls, stroking his head—but it didn't keep the pain away, the immense pain burning so hot that it caused him to clench around Thorin, eliciting a deep groan from the dwarf but no relieve of pain for himself. Thorin continued forward, pushing in until he was just half way, and that was already too much for the halfling.

“Thorin.” Bilbo whispered. “It burns.” And Thorin nodded, now cheek to cheek with Bilbo as he took in a breath. “You are tighter than I'd imagined.” Their bodies engulfed each other's warmth, and it was about the only thing nice about their encounter, Bilbo thought. 

As soon as Thorin was completely inside the hobbit, he couldn't help the grunt that pushed passed his tight lips. He was so tight, his cock hugged so incredibly—the heat was a blissful guilt, for he knew his hobbit was yet to enjoy their night. So he stayed, and Bilbo was glad for it. His body relaxed, growing accustomed to the intrusion after a moment or two. 

“Go.” Bilbo whimpered. “Before I change my mind.” 

Thorin hummed lowly, pulling back a bit before slowly pushing in again. Bilbo held on, arms just as tightly wound around the dwarf's body as his legs were. He felt the pain slowly dissipate with every push, and as it happened, it was replaced with a more pleasurable sensation. Thorin kept at it slowly, rocking them back and forth, one hand under Bilbo's head, tugging his head back. He leaned in with his thrusts, capturing the hobbit's lips with his own. The kiss was fierce—Thorin was like nothing he had ever tasted, so robust and ..

“Oh!” Their lips broke apart with a soft cry from Bilbo, whose mouth was agape and eyes wide from what Thorin could only assume was pleasure. “Again.” Bilbo moaned. 

“Whatever it was.” He suddenly felt greedy, wanting to experience such a sensation over and over. So Thorin thrust in again, with more force—hitting the spot in the hobbit. 

Bilbo gulped, a broken noise coming from him as he went with the rhythm, much to Thorin's pleasure. They rocked back and forth in unison, albeit a bit sloppy, but in unison none the less. Their lips found the other's once again, and everything Bilbo had worried about lastnight was gone. There was nothing but warmth, and pleasure and things he'd never felt before—Thank that blasted wizard.

Thorin grunted, his pace much quicker now, but Bilbo paid no mind. He was in his own heaven. His fingers dug into the clothes on Thorin's back, as if pulling him closer. The dwarf pulled away, lips leaving Bilbo's to move down and hungrily find his neck, sucking on the skin, turning it red and licking up after the marks he left behind. 

Bilbo took it all, mouth wide and fingers crumpled up against Thorin's back, moving down to feel his peach fuzz covered buttock. He felt, even with his hands, the way the dwarf rutted into him, fucked him so lovely that he could've sworn he wasn't on middle earth anymore. 

“'m close.” Thorin breathed up Bilbo's neck, to his ear, soon resting their foreheads together. He fucked the hobbit good, with everything in him until he neared his peak. Bilbo was the same—and they were so close, so close, he had to...

Bilbo removed a hand from Thorin's back to grab himself and fist his cock in time with the hard thrusts that brought him closer and closer. 

It wasn't but a few seconds later that the dwarf was a hot mess of cold sweat and hot breaths, and Bilbo wasn't far behind, either. Thorin came first with a muffled groan, his cock buried deep into the hobbit's tight, exhilarating heat until he was milked dry. He had a soft grip on the hobbit's soft curls, even as Bilbo himself found his second climax of the night. He managed silence throughout it, but his face contorted in all but the most pleasured expression Thorin had ever seen. 

“My, my..” Bilbo put a hand to his forehead with a release of breath. 

Thorin grinned, releasing the grip on Bilbo's hair and carefully slipping out. It left Bilbo with an odd feeling of emptiness, but it left him quickly as warm arms locked around his body and pulled him close. 

This would be the warmest he'd been ever since he left Bag End.

**Author's Note:**

> this was my first thorin/bilbo fic, please give kudos and leave constructive criticism wherever needed! i'd love to improve my writing for these two. :)


End file.
